


Coffee Bells

by KibblerEars



Series: 25 Days of Christmas [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Phil is addicted to coffee, and Clint is addicted to bells, jingle bells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KibblerEars/pseuds/KibblerEars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a brief moment, Phil considers shooting Clint then and there. </p>
<p>But then he smells coffee.</p>
<p>And hears...bells?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Bells

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Jingling Bells
> 
> Unbeta'd, sorry! 
> 
> Also, sorry I'm so behind with these. I keep forgetting to post them.

The faint sound of bells permeated the fog of sleep as Phil blinked to slow awareness - a rarity he saved for his few precious days off. Warmth cocooned him and he hummed in appreciation as he burrowed deeper into the warmth only to jerk in shock as the chill of morning beyond the bed bit at his suddenly bare body. Finally, he rolled over, peering up at Clint, who had a stupid grin on his face and was holding Phil's blanket in his hand. 

For a brief moment, he considered shooting Clint then and there. The archer knew he didn't get many days off and he treasured each and every one of them. But then Phil registered the smell in the air - coffee, sweet, sweet coffee - and what was in Clint's other hand. A bright purple mug with...jingle bells hanging off it? 

His brows furrowed as he blinked sleep from his eyes, "Barton, what the hell is that?"

Clint just laughed, shaking the mug a bit, a splash of coffee slipping over the lip and sliding down the side of the mug to stain one of the bells, "just your morning coffee, _sir_." 

Phil groaned again, rolling his eyes as he shifted to press his face back into the pillow. He was so not awake enough to deal with Clint's level of cheer this morning. Above him, Clint laughed again and the sound of jingling bells danced in the air, but Phil wasn't moving. No way, not happening. Nothing could take him from this bed today. 

Until he heard the distinctive slurping coming from Clint’s direction. Moving back onto his back, Phil flung an arm over his eyes, “I know you aren’t drinking my coffee, Barton.” 

There was another loud slurp, forcing Phil to move his arm and _finally_ open his eyes, glaring up at Clint once again. Clint took another sip, practically gargling the coffee in an overly showy display before he swallowed and exaggerated a sigh of content. 

He sat up, leaning back against the headboard and held out an impatient hand. “Give me the coffee before you ruin it.” 

Clint shook his head, “oh, I don’t think so, Phil. You see, there’s only one way for you to get your coffee this morning.” 

Phil’s eyes narrowed, wishing he had continued to ignore Clint and sleep despite the warmth filling him just from seeing Clint smile at him, so free and open in ways he hadn’t been in the beginning of their relationship. That sight would never stop being one that made his heart flutter and so he sighed, waving a hand as if to say _go on_. 

His partner - in work, in life? - beamed at him as he produced a...of all the things imaginable, a silly, bright green Christmas hat decorated top to bottom with jingle bells. 

“After all,” Clint declared, “there’s nothing sexier than a man in bells.” The archer plunked the hat down on Phil’s head before handing over the coffee, laughing in triumph before snapping a picture with his phone. Phil didn’t say a word about the hat as he took a sip of the admittedly delicious coffee, savoring the tastes dancing across his tastebuds. 

Clint climbed into bed with him, pressing up against his side and still Phil didn’t say anything, continuing to drink the coffee with steady silence. Only when he was done, only when the clink of jingle bells signalled the cup being placed on the nightstand, only when he had twisted to press Clint back down against the bed, hovering overtop of him, only then did he speak. 

“Be prepared, Barton, be prepared.” 

The other man’s suddenly nervous - but not really, Phil knew better - laughter was lost between them as their mouths met in a gentle morning kiss and they lost themselves in one another.


End file.
